US Ambassador killed in Libya: Chris Stevens was a man of drive and passion

Ambassador Chris Stevens was concerned principally with the welfare of the
people in the countries where he served, says The Telegraph's Harry de
Quetteville, who knew him.

US Ambassador Christopher Stevens, centre, who was killed in Benghazi Wednesday.Photo: AP

By Harry de Quetteville

7:52PM BST 12 Sep 2012

Chris Stevens was the antithesis of the ruthless, bombastic, culturally insensitive American diplomat whose stereotypical image haunts the pages of bad fiction and, all too sadly, the minds of his atavistic killers.

Though it may sound a do-gooding cliché, he was concerned principally with the welfare of the people in the countries where he served – and considered the advance of that cause to be of the greatest benefit to both sides.

Such was the impulse that had seen him join the Peace Corps in North Africa after graduating from the University of Berkeley in California. And such was the drive that led him to step off a Greek cargo ship at Benghazi on April 5 last year, leading America’s mission to what was then a rebel capital during a civil war.

“It is especially tragic that Chris Stevens died in Benghazi because it is a city that he helped save,” Obama said. “With characteristic skill, courage, and resolve, he built partnerships with Libyan revolutionaries, and helped them as they planned to build a new Libya.”

I got to know him about a decade ago in Jerusalem, where he was the political officer at America’s consulate dealing with Palestinian affairs. A French and Arabic speaker, he was halfway through a 20 year spell in the Middle East during which he would live and work in Syria, Egypt, Israel and the Occupied Territories, and ultimately Libya. During Chris’s time in the Holy Land, the second Palestinian “intifada”, or uprising, was taking place, with suicide bombings and Israeli reprisals. America’s position in the region was delicate, all the more so after the invasion of Iraq in 2003.

But Chris was energetically bounding around, just about trammelling the jovial enthusiasm that won him so many friends within the official, suit-bound persona that his position required.

It was precisely the combination of these two sides, formal and informal, that made him such a good diplomat. Chris wasn’t hidebound. He was authentic. Though he knew and respected protocol, he could laugh at its absurdities. This made him an acute and appreciated observer of the realities of life “on the ground”.

Some ribald observations might enliven a party at his flat in a Jerusalem apartment block. He looked slightly ill at ease in a starched collar and tie, for Chris was always more comfortable in jumper and jeans, out on the streets.

Above all he was happy on the tennis court. We used to play often in Jerusalem, at the Hebrew University. It was on court that he told me he was leaving Jerusalem, heading back to the US to work with Richard Lugar, the veteran member of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. Chris was excited. Despite all the smiles, he took foreign policy seriously. He thought Lugar did too, and knew that here was a chance to rise up the hierarchy at the State Department.

On the day of his ambassadorial confirmation hearing, he met a fellow diplomat in Washington. Typically, he was out for a run where others were holed up inwardly digesting briefing books: “That’s not the way I roll,” he laughed, jogging off.

When we last caught up on court, he was telling me about Libya. He was happy, enjoying the chance to put his experience and optimism to work at a senior level. Now that talent has been snuffed out. It is the Arab world’s loss as much as America’s.